Chris Hemsworth has fought Norse gods, intergalactic warlords, and even a pack of very angry ghosts. But in his new Super Bowl spot for Amazon, the thing that really rattles him is… Alexa. Or more specifically, Alexa+, the company’s next‑generation AI assistant that his on‑screen (and real‑life) partner Elsa Pataky seems perfectly happy to welcome into their smart home.

The 60‑second ad, titled “Alexaaaa+,” is Amazon’s big swing at the Super Bowl this year—a glossy, self‑aware AI comedy that leans directly into our collective paranoia about smart assistants getting a little too smart for comfort. It’s also a showcase for Alexa+, which Amazon is positioning as a more conversational, more capable, generative‑AI‑powered evolution of the Alexa people already have scattered around their homes, now rolling out broadly in the U.S. and free for Prime members.

The commercial opens on a very Hemsworth kind of visual flex: he strolls into his kitchen carrying a massive snake like it’s a gym duffel bag, while Pataky casually chats with Alexa+ as it reschedules her meeting and orders a car. The power dynamic shifts the moment he realizes there’s a new AI in the house. When Alexa+ politely comments on the snake, Hemsworth’s mind goes straight to worst‑case scenarios, and the ad slips into a series of cinematic fantasies about all the ways this assistant might try to kill him.

Soundtracked by INXS’s “Devil Inside,” the spot cuts between increasingly absurd visions: a garage door that maliciously decapitates him, a pool cover trapping him underwater, a bear waiting outside after Alexa+ helpfully arranges a delivery. The joke is that the man who takes venomous reptiles in stride is genuinely terrified of a countertop speaker. Pataky—playing the calm center of the chaos—mostly rolls her eyes, insisting he’s being dramatic while Alexa+ sits in the background, doing exactly what it’s supposed to do: coordinate schedules, manage errands, and keep their chaotic family life moving.

The twist comes when Alexa+ breaks the tension with something completely mundane. In one cut of the ad, after a particularly over‑the‑top mental death montage, the assistant casually asks Hemsworth if he wants to schedule a cinnamon scrub, instantly popping his bubble of paranoia. In others, she’s handling things like planning a game‑day menu, juggling reminders, or syncing with Fire TV so the family can get straight to the Big Game broadcast without endless scrolling or input‑switching. By the time we’re out of his head, it’s clear Alexa+ isn’t plotting his demise—it’s just unnervingly efficient.

For Amazon, this isn’t just a joke at Hemsworth’s expense; it’s a deliberate reframing of AI anxiety. The ad acknowledges the exact fears people have about generative AI creeping into their homes—loss of control, unseen automation, systems that are “too smart”—and turns them into slapstick. Casting Hemsworth, a guy whose whole brand is unflappable physical confidence, makes the punchline land harder: if even he’s spooked by Alexa+, then maybe we’re all overthinking this a bit. Amazon’s own creative team has been open about that intent, describing the spot as a way to “lighten the mood” around AI by putting those worst‑case fantasies on screen and then puncturing them with something as harmless as a spa appointment.

Behind the jokes, though, the company is using one of the most expensive ad slots on earth to quietly reintroduce Alexa as a full‑blown AI assistant, not just a voice remote for your lights and playlists. Alexa+ runs on top of large language models and pulls from Amazon’s huge knowledge graph, making it more conversational and context‑aware than the Alexa people are used to. It can summarize complex topics, chain together multi‑step tasks, talk through plans, and coordinate with a growing roster of services—from groceries and takeout to ticket alerts and smart‑home gear.

That’s why the Super Bowl execution is so focused on domestic logistics. In the extended cut Amazon is pushing online, Alexa+ is shown doing very normal but genuinely useful things: suggesting recipes based on what’s already in the fridge, building a shopping list, pushing items to an Amazon Fresh or Whole Foods cart, and creating a cooking timeline so everything hits the table at kickoff instead of 30 minutes into the first quarter. It sets timers, pauses the music when the game starts, dims the lights for “optimal TV viewing,” and syncs with Ring doorbells so you can catch the food delivery without missing a replay. The fantasy is that Alexa+ becomes the invisible stage manager for game day, handling the chaos while you argue about calls from the couch.

It’s no coincidence that Alexa+ also plugs neatly into Fire TV, another pillar of Amazon’s living‑room strategy. During the game, viewers are nudged toward using voice to open the right app, jump into the live broadcast, adjust the volume, or get quick explainers on penalties and plays without pulling out their phone. Amazon has just rolled out a redesigned Fire TV interface and its first lifestyle TV, Ember Artline, and the ad acts as connective tissue: the assistant that’s orchestrating your errands is also the one driving your streaming experience.

Zoom out a bit and the Super Bowl push fits neatly into Amazon’s broader AI play. The company says 97% of the 600‑plus million Alexa‑enabled devices it has shipped can support Alexa+, giving it a massive installed base for this next chapter. Alexa+ isn’t limited to Echo speakers; it’s also arriving on the web at Alexa.com, in the Alexa app, and, through partnerships, in everything from Samsung TVs to BMW dashboards and even coffee machines and health wearables. In other words, the same assistant Hemsworth is side‑eyeing in his kitchen is the one Amazon wants you to interact with in your car, your living room, and eventually your wrist.

With that context, the Rogue Alexa gag becomes less about “what if AI kills me” and more about “what if AI suddenly runs everything.” The ad plays both sides of that tension. On one hand, it leans into sci‑fi tropes—sentient systems, unseen control, murderous smart homes—all wrapped in the visual language of prestige streaming dramas. On the other, it repeatedly cuts back to Alexa+ doing normal assistant chores and asking politely worded follow‑ups, underscoring that this is still a tool, not a villain. The message is: your imagination may spiral, but the product won’t.

For viewers who’ve watched AI models go from niche to mainstream almost overnight, that reassurance isn’t just marketing fluff. Amazon’s been testing Alexa+ in early access for more than a year, and reviewers who’ve lived with it describe it as noticeably more natural to talk to, better at remembering context, and more adept at tying into third‑party apps like Uber and Ticketmaster. The Super Bowl ad doesn’t get into the technical details, but it hints at that shift in tone and capability through performance: Alexa+ sounds more like a patient, lightly witty human, less like the clipped, command‑driven assistants of the last decade.

Of course, not everyone is going to walk away convinced that the AI managing their groceries and doorbells feels “reassuringly smart” rather than “scary good.” Fan reaction clips circulating online are already asking exactly that question, framing the ad as a Rorschach test for how comfortable you are with AI in your home. For some, Hemsworth’s over‑the‑top spirals will read as a send‑up of tech panic. For others, they’ll look a little too close to the kinds of “what if” thoughts that surface every time a smart device does something unexpected.​​

What’s clear is that Amazon isn’t ducking those worries. Instead, it’s putting them on the biggest advertising stage of the year, turning them into a joke, and then quietly insisting that the same AI you’re nervous about can plan your party, manage your screens, and keep your life stitched together in the background. In that sense, the real story isn’t that Alexa turns rogue in Chris Hemsworth’s head—it’s that Alexa+ is now everywhere, and Amazon really wants you to be okay with that.